The first time a daycare feels wrong, it’s rarely because of one big moment. It’s smaller than that. A hesitation at drop-off that wasn’t there before. A quiet ride home. A child who used to rush inside now clings to your leg like something has shifted.
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As I walked out of my classroom door on the last day with students before winter break, it hit me like a tidal wave. The kind that comes out of nowhere, knocks the wind out of you, and leaves you standing there wondering how something invisible can feel so heavy. I was suddenly flooded with emotion, so much so that I didn’t even know where to begin processing it. All I knew was that I needed to make it to my car before the waterworks started.
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It’s about half an hour before the end of the workday. My brain is fried, my to-do list is laughing at me, and I’m just trying to wrap things up when, ding!, the first text rolls in.
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Mom on the go in Holy Toledo 